


Dream Sweetly

by Vagabond



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Episode Related, Gen, M/M, Minor spoilers for new episode, relationship if you squint, thoughts on the machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:10:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagabond/pseuds/Vagabond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finch talks with the Machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Sweetly

**Author's Note:**

> Just finished tonight's episode and oh man, the FEELS. I love getting to know the Machine more. I'll be honest, the weekly procedural style is great, but the thing that sold me on this show was the science fiction aspect and artificial intelligence. I've been a huge fan of this aspect of science fiction for a long time and the fact Person Of Interest toes the line between reality and fiction just excites me. A lot. 
> 
> So I give you a story wherein Finch talks with his magical Machine, the Machine talks back, and Reese whisks him away because I didn't want to leave the story on a depressing note. The bit about the Machine worrying over Finch's sleeping habits is what really did me in.

Finch finally talked to the Machine.

With DECIMA on the cusp of Samaritan, Vigilance being a general pain in the rear end, and business as usual with numbers and his team, Finch felt anxious more often than not. For a long time he avoided talking to the Machine because of Root. Something about the young woman had made the Machine seem all the more distant. It had reached out to her because he had pushed it away. He’d programmed it, created it, and told it to leave him alone so it did its best to respect his wishes. 

Yet after Root was gone, after Reese stalked off for the night and Shaw went to tend to her wound, Finch sat in the library and talked. At first he told himself he was talking to the air but soon he knew it was listening. It was always listening, and apparently still watched him and worried about him even after he’d shoved it away. 

“Do you remember Grace?” Finch asked the air, staring up at the ceiling and into the darkness, “you led me to her. I couldn’t figure out why you kept pointing her out in the midst of a crowd. Long before, I told you not to protect me or look out for me but instead you gave me some of the best years of my life.” 

His eyes slid shut as he tried to conjure up a picture of Grace. 

“I knew what I was creating when I created you, but I don’t think I fully understood the repercussions. Nathan’s death, irrelevant numbers, setting out on this quest to save people…it was all unplanned. I had intended to give you to the government and end it there but I knew it couldn’t be the end, even though I didn’t want to admit what I had created.” Harold scoffed and opened his eyes, staring ahead at blank computer monitors. 

“I’m merely a man. Some days I feel as if I am on top of the world and I feel as though I am utterly untouchable. When I stand next to Mr. Reese or watch Ms. Shaw work I have a strange sense of invincibility. Then there are moments like this one, when half of my team is injured and everything is spiraling out of control that I feel a profound sense of exhaustion. Do you understand that? Do you know what it means to be exhausted?” He stood up from his chair and paced around the library. Finch felt antsy, like something was clawing at him underneath his skin. His back ached, as it often did, and he realized he was hungry. The day had caught up to him.

“I am inclined to say that you are a machine and couldn’t have any idea about what it means to be exhausted, but I taught you to understand people. I wrote code that would allow you to observe the world and understand. You know exhaustion because you know worry. Somewhere, deeply embedded in your code you know that a lack of sleep, poor nutrition, and a stressful environment will leave me burnt out and you cared enough to tell Ms. Groves in order for her to relay the information to me.” Now he pinched the bridge of his nose and stood by a window that allowed the city light to pour into the room. 

“You understood enough about human nature to teach Ms. Groves a lesson about what it really means to be a hero. That, above all else, unnerves me.” Harold stared out at what he could see of the city and watched as a car drove by. For a moment he wondered what the driver’s story was. Perhaps he had just completed a late shift and was on his way home to greet his family. Yes, he’d arrive home and hug his kids, kiss his wife, help prepare dinner, and feel utterly and completely safe. 

It was the exact opposite of what Harold felt and it exhausted him. 

His phone vibrated on his desk. Finch frowned slightly and gave the city one last look before he crossed the room and looked at the screen. 

**[Restricted Number]  
Message: Sleep, Harold. **

Harold swallowed hard as he read the message twice more and tried to convince himself it was some sort of joke, or a text from Ms. Groves, but deep down he knew exactly what it was from. Who it was from. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone vibrated again. 

**[Restricted Number]  
Message: John is not sleeping either. **

Had anyone been in the room they would have witnessed heat rushing into Finch’s cheeks at the suggestion. He waited, wondering if his phone would vibrate again but it did not and he slipped it into his pocket. 

“Finch?” John’s voice came from the entryway and Harold looked up and attempted to conceal his surprise. 

“Mr. Reese. I thought you’d gone home.” Finch shoved his hands into his pockets to try and quell the trembling. 

“I did. Then I realized I couldn’t sleep and I thought I would see if you could use some company.” Reese shrugged and studied Finch in a way that made the smaller man feel uncomfortable. 

“Perhaps…” he trailed off, hesitated, and then picked up the train of thought, “you would accompany me to the safe house. I can make tea and perhaps one or both of us might find the chance to rest.” 

“Sure, Finch. If you’re okay with it.” John answered and offered a tiny smile. 

“Certainly, Mr. Reese.” Finch mirrored the smile and grabbed his coat before his phone vibrated again with another message. He checked it immediately. 

**[Restricted Number]  
Message: Dream sweetly.**

“Everything alright, Harold?” Reese inquired and Finch realized he’d been staring at the screen of his phone for far too long. 

“Perfectly fine, Mr. Reese.” Harold replied and realized for once the statement could actually be considered true. 

*  
 **ACCESSING CELL PHONE DATA  
LOCATING…. …. …. .…FOUND  
PERSONS: FINCH, HAROLD [ALIAS] REESE, JOHN [ALIAS]  
LOCATION: 543 82nd STREET NEW YORK, NY [KNOWN SAFE HOUSE]  
TIME: 12:53AM  
….ANALYZING….  
RESULT: ADMIN IS SAFE…  
ADMIN IN SHUTDOWN MODE   
…ADMIN WILL REST…  
DREAM SWEETLY, ADMIN. **

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have the first clue about writing coding so I winged it. Sorry not sorry.


End file.
